I had a baby once. She was little, she couldn’t talk, and we were very excited when she did things like roll over, or wait more than 27 minutes between pooping. However, something very strange has happened. I can’t find this baby anymore, and instead I have a little girl. This little girl has a plethora of likes, dislikes, wants, needs, etc. She also has no issue explaining them at great lengths. I can’t figure out exactly what this little girl did with the baby I had, but the baby is missing.
I looked all over for my baby. I looked for clues under the ever growing pile of painting supplies that a certain little girl is constantly using to express her blossoming love of all things art. I looked under the sketchpads, paintbrushes, and watercolors.
No, there were no signs of a baby there.
Just a pile of beautiful drawings and some odd little creations that could only make sense in the ever expanding mind of a kid.
Then I figured I would check the basket where we kept her baby toys, but those too were gone. Now it was filled with puzzles, games, and other things a baby would never know how to play with. Definitely no clues about the missing baby there.
Next, I decided to look in the room where my baby used to live. I looked in the drawers full of jeans, t-shirts, and dresses. I looked under the Lego workbench where this little girl had built all sorts of towers, airplanes, schools, and whatever else crossed her racing mind.
Still, nothing leading to my baby.
Finally, I looked in the bed to see if my baby was hiding under the covers. All I found were stuffed animals this little girl had named (and given backstories)… this wasn’t even my baby’s crib. This was the bed of a little girl.
As I walked downstairs, I decided to check one more place. I looked in the kitchen, to see if I could find any proof of a baby there. After all, it’s where we kept her diaper bag for so long. We would leave it right by the door, so we never forgot the plethora of things we needed every time we left the house. Maybe something there would point me in the direction of my baby…
When I looked by the door, it started to sink in. My baby was gone forever.
By the door, where we used to keep the diaper bag, I saw another bag. It wasn’t for diapers though… it was for books. Babies don’t need book bags. Little girl’s need book bags so they can go to school and fill their brains with all sorts of amazing things. Any evidence of a baby in this house has been relegated to photos, small reminders, and memories.
This is now a little girl’s house. A wonderful little girl who will keep growing, playing, learning, and amazing me at every turn.
Still, if only I could figure out where this little girl came from…